


Finite

by Ryu_Reikai_Akuma



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blood and Injury, Discussion of Death, Established Relationship, M/M, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 12:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma/pseuds/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma
Summary: Kili was absolutely convinced that nothing bad and harmful could befall Thorin. Thorin tried to tell him that he was wrong.





	Finite

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who had had a rough month! If you don’t follow me on any social media, you should be grateful because I’ve been whining almost nonstop. Anyway I wanted to post something on my birthday a couple of weeks ago, but this was the only fic sort of complete and… it’s kind of bleak. This was inspired by the only OTP fanart stuff I own, a lovely art by [littlestarfighter](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/post/162774762389/delorita-linane-art-littleststarfighter). I have five postcards with this art. It’s so lovely! I wish there are more stuff for this ship, but oh well. That’s the downside of being on the rare pair canoe to hell, I guess.

Something was the matter with Thorin. Kili couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but he noticed the way Dwalin was watching over their king. He was loyal to a fault to Thorin, but he was also a soldier responsible for the safety of the whole company. Usually, he divided his attention almost evenly amongst them—especially those with limited battle experience—but now he watched Thorin more keenly than he did others. Eager to reach what Gandalf claimed to be the relative safety of a skin changer’s house, no one noticed how Dwalin paused to look over Thorin every so often or how they would whisper quietly but harshly—Thorin clearly winning their argument each time—except for Kili.

Did something upset him? Kili knew too well of his temper and there was no shortage of things to rouse it. The endless rain in the narrow passage of the Misty Mountains had fouled his already sour mood after their departure from the elves. Their capture by the goblins and the mockery of the Goblin King had only ensured his anger. Their poor burglar was first to be on the receiving end of it (Kili must admit he was glad that for once it wasn’t him). Kili thought Thorin’s mood had improved for sure after sighting the Lonely Mountain in the distance, the first glimpse of the long lost home he hadn’t seen in decades. His face had softened as Kili rarely saw but for short moments of peace on quiet nights they could slip into each other’s bed. His lips had curled into a smile Kili had thought was reserved only for him and how silly would it be to be jealous of a mountain! The sight had returned energy within him that Kili now realized had slowly depleted as the days went by on the quest, but now came back in many folds. He was almost a different dwarf, moving with power and authority that could not be mistaken to belong to anyone but a king. Yet, despite this great progress and this strengthening hope, he had scowled, snapped and kept his distance from the company as they made their way to the skin changer’s house. Others had dismissed it as his usual poor mood, but Kili knew there must be another cause

Had he been injured by the pale orc? Kili still shuddered to think of him, the monster in his childhood stories, the murderer of his great-grandfather. Somehow his rich imagination still failed to compare with the real thing. He was taller than Kili had expected, as well as stronger and more vicious. His eyes when he saw Thorin had been hatred ensconced in cruel delight. His grin when he subdued Thorin had promised pain beyond compare. A dwarf king had fallen in his hand and he wished to take the life of another, of Thorin. How scared Kili had been. How his heart had skipped so many beats, his mouth lost his voice, his hands shaken with unbridled fear. For a moment, he had thought he would lose Thorin, his king, his uncle, his everything. But, of course not! They had a wizard on their side and Thorin was a seasoned warrior—the best Kili had ever known! A little magic had put him back to right and he was soon barking orders and leading the company again through the diminished distance to the Lonely Mountain. Some had little faith in his dreams—even Dain had refused to come to their aid until things were more certain. However, there was no doubt in Kili’s mind that with Thorin to lead them, they would return to their home, reclaim it from the dragon, and give Thorin his rightful crown.

Why did his attitude turned to the worse, then? What was Thorin keeping from the company? Kili observed him and Dwalin closely but secretly, but could find no answer. Hating being kept in the dark (he wasn’t too young! And he definitely wasn’t stupid!) and proud of being the only one who noticed the secrecy, Kili set about to find out what Thorin and Dwalin were hiding. He knew better than to ask him outright, especially when he was in this mood, and waited for the night to offer privacy.

Hours passed very slowly and even the beautiful scenery couldn’t keep Kili’s mind away from his self-appointed mission. He was constantly checking the sun to see its progress to the west, earning teasing remarks from his brother about his poor energy. When it finally tilted close to its resting place and the sky began to darken, the party finally stopped to rest. While the company prepared their camp, Thorin volunteered to survey the area for potential threat. Kili watched quietly as Thorin had yet another hushed argument with Dwalin. He wasn’t surprised at all Dwalin once again lost and let Thorin go alone. Unable to hold off his curiosity for much longer, Kili made excuses to Fili and went after Thorin. Bombur was preparing something that smelled heavenly after the stench of rot and mold in the goblin’s cave, but Kili refused to be diverted from his objective. He trusted Fili to have saved at least a bowl for him upon his return.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dwalin asked when Kili passed him by.

Kili nodded to the direction Thorin had disappeared to. “I want to talk to Thorin.”

Dwalin frowned. “He wants to be alone.”

“I won’t bother him,” Kili argued. “And he never turns away my company.”

The frown deepened. Had Kili been any other dwarf, he would’ve cowered at the sight. But, he knew Dwalin, having studied under him for decades. Kili knew that neither his harsh words nor brash actions would truly hurt him, for Dwalin was as kind as he was fierce. “Leave him be. He’ll be back soon enough and you can have your words with him then.”

“I can’t wait. I promise I won’t take much of his time.”

With those words spoken and without waiting for any response, Kili left. Behind him, Dwalin grumbled that he and Thorin were united in stubbornness, but it wasn’t the first time anyone had pointed that out, so Kili ignored it. His mother and brother had often complained about it, but he failed to see anything wrong with a little determination. Without it, he wouldn’t have survived Dwalin’s grueling training to prepare him to be a soldier, he wouldn’t have mastered long and boring lessons from his tutors, and he wouldn’t be Thorin’s lover, for Thorin wouldn’t take him as one on his own accord. Indeed, the trait had served him well throughout his life and Kili saw nothing wrong with employing it now to uncover Thorin’s secret. After all, he thought, in such long perilous journey, there should be no secret kept from a member of the company and a lover. Seeing as Kili was both, he was doubly entitled to know whatever it was that Thorin was hiding.

Nights spent in the forest working as a guard and hunting allowed Kili to easily follow the path Thorin had taken. His heavy boots left their marks in the grass and ground, imperceptible to untrained eyes, but obvious to Kili. Rustles of fabric alerted Kili that he had neared his target and he hastened, eager to catch Thorin red-handed doing whatever it was he wouldn’t tell the company. A grin spread on his face when his eyes perceived the familiar figure sitting under a large tree, unaware that he had been found. The grin, however, faltered when Kili noticed the unusual slowness Thorin employed to remove his coat and tunic. It disappeared completely as his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach at the sight of a blood-soaked torn shirt underneath the tunic.

“Thorin!” he cried, rushing to his lover.

Thorin looked up, startled, his hand gripping his shirt as if to hide his state, but Kili would have none of it. He knelt before Thorin and hurried to open his clothes. His desperate hope that the blood was only remnants from healed injuries perished when he saw open wounds and bruises under the shirt. Blood flowed still from some cuts and Kili feared what other damages Thorin had that couldn’t be seen with naked eyes. His hands trembled when he touched Thorin’s tender skin. Years of training, of killing, of seeing death couldn’t prepare him for this, for the sight of Thorin’s injuries. He had seen Thorin bruised and had tended to small bleeding wounds before, but he had never seen him injured to such extent. Save for Kili himself, Fili, and Dwalin, no other soldier could even hope to cause him pain. Even in the rare skirmishes with goblins and wildlife, Thorin had always managed to come out mostly unscathed. The dragon might have impenetrable scales and breath of fire, but Thorin’s true armor and weapon were his unrivaled battle skill and experience. But now…

“I’ll call Oin,” Kili decided as he stood up on shaking legs, eyes still glued on the terrifying sight before him. His heart was pounding on his chest, so hard and quick he thought it might burst. How much blood had Thorin lost? How much pain was he in? What other injuries did he have? “I’ll be right back.”

Thorin caught his wrist before he could turn around. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s no need.”

“But you’re injured!”

“I’m aware, but it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.”

“But…”

Thorin sighed and even that small movement caused him to wince. “Sit down, Kili,” he said. There was no fire, no authority in his voice that Kili had become so familiar with. This was no king, no warrior, and the thought of Thorin being reduced to such state nearly brought tears to Kili’s eyes.

“I thought Gandalf has healed you,” he said, his voice hitching despite his best efforts.

“He has, but I suppose some wounds are harder to completely fix than others.” Thorin exhaled again, slowly, carefully. “My excitement got the better of me and I worsened them.”

“Then let me call Gandalf,” Kili begged him.

“No. Call no one. I’m not the only one injured. Gandalf and Oin are needed by the company. I can fix this myself.”

Kili looked at him pleadingly, but there was a familiar steel in Thorin’s gaze. His mind was not to be changed, no matter how Kili begged. Defeated, Kili lowered his eyes to Thorin’s bloody torso. He still grappled with the knowledge that Thorin was so terribly injured. How could this be? Could this be fixed without a healer’s help? What if…. No. It wouldn’t happen. Thorin had survived a dragon, countless battles, and the difficult life of a displaced and humiliated prince. He had lived on to build a new city when countless others had passed. He _would_ survive this, too. It was only one orc, after all, and Gandalf had tended to him earlier. But, his wounds were bleeding and bruises were blooming on his pale skin. Even breathing was a chore for him and the tension of his body indicated hidden pain. Thorin _wouldn’t_ be defeated by the orc so close to his home. He would show Kili Erebor. But what if…

“Kili,” Thorin sighed as he placed his hand upon Kili’s nape, his fingers sliding into his wild hair. “You know I won’t be here forever.”

Kili shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. “I don’t want to hear of it.”

“But you have to,” Thorin insisted. “I’ve noticed this for a long time. You seem to think that I’m impervious, invulnerable and invincible, but I am not. I can get hurt—I _have_ gotten hurt and I _will_ again.”

“But you won’t die from these wounds!” Kili protested, opening his eyes to glare at Thorin.

“Perhaps not. Perhaps I will not die of injury, but old age.” His fingers dug a little deeper into Kili’s nape when he tried to turn away. “There are many ways one can die. Even if I don’t die tonight or during this quest, I will one day face my death still.”

Kili tried to maintain his glare, but it was difficult when tears rose to his eyes at the thought of all the things Thorin said. “Why are you talking about this?”

“Because you need to hear it. Your brother knows this. He knows that I’m a flawed mortal, that I will make mistakes and one day pass away. You, however,” Thorin smiled, sweet yet sad. “You think I will be with you forever, a perfect king and lover. I’m not, Kili. _I_ _am_ _not_ ,” he repeated when Kili breathed a denial. “I’m glad you think so well of me and often that is the reason I try so hard, to not disappoint you. But, you must understand this.”

Kili closed his eyes and swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew this, of course, he knew this. He wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t a child. He knew Thorin was just a dwarf and he knew that Thorin was many decades older than him. He knew a day would come when he would have to say his farewell to Thorin, when their separation wasn’t temporary but permanent. But, he supposed some part of him wanted to live in oblivion. A childish belief persisted in him that if he put this truth out of his mind, it would never happen. However, it would eventually and now in this quest, this possible was ever more real. He could lose Thorin. He could try to keep it from happening, protect him with his life, but it would still happen one way or another. It devastated Kili that no training and no amount of experience could keep Thorin from death’s embrace.

“Kili,” Thorin breathed, placing his forehead gently on Kili’s temple. He caressed the hair in Kili’s nape in the familiar way meant to calm him. No one else knew about this. No one else did this to Kili. No one could make him this calm and content but Thorin. And one day he would lose this all. “You are one of my finest warriors. Surely you know how fragile life is.”

“You are not fragile!” Kili protested. “You are a king, the best warrior I know, you…”

“Death does not discriminate,” Thorin interrupted him.

Kili let out a shuddering breath at the uncontestable truth. He himself had slain creatures and people feared by many. He had led ambushes and came out the victor. The strongest and powerful could be defeated and killed and Thorin was not exception to this rule. Kili desperately wanted him to be and had spent many years convincing himself that he was, but he knew it wasn’t so. “Is it so bad if I don’t want to think about it?” Kili asked unsteadily.

“I suppose not, but still you must understand.” As he spoke, his breath caressed Kili’s cheek, further calming him. “I’m not the soldier I used to be and I’m much older than you. The chance of me passing before you is great. I want you to be ready for it to happen.”

Kili clenched his jaw to keep tears from falling. “I don’t think I can ever be truly ready.”

“As ready as you can be, then.”

They said nothing for a long moment. At some point, Kili had gripped Thorin’s bloody shirt tightly as if to keep him close and never let go. Despite this, Thorin said nothing. He continued caressing Kili with his breaths and his fingers. With the patience he reserved only for Kili, he waited for him to compose himself. This affection and steadiness reminded Kili of what he now realized he had taken for granted because of his erroneous assumption that they would last infinitely or at least long until he was old. One day they would be taken away from him along with Thorin and there would be nothing Kili could do to stop it. No sword or arrow or medicine of any kind could resist the course of nature. Would he be ready for it? Would he be ready to lose the dwarf he loved more than the world? He would cry, Kili knew. He would cry when his heart broke. He would cry when he lost his love, half of his soul, irreplaceable part of his life. He would cry and long and regret for no amount of time with Thorin would ever be quite enough. But, Kili would then also recover. He knew himself and his dreams and purposes. He couldn’t and wouldn’t abandon them just because his heart was no longer whole. Kili didn’t know how long it would take, whether days or months or years. He knew for certain, however, that the tears would stop and the smiles return. He wasn’t ready now and maybe he wouldn’t be fully ready when the time came, but a day would come when he accepted it as yet another chapter of his story with Thorin, the final one, and the beginning of his own chapter alone.

“All right,” he finally said.

After years of being lovers, Kili could tell that Thorin was smiling even without looking at him. “There’s a good lad. I want you to go on without me when the time comes. None of that silly ‘I can’t live without you’ nonsense.”

Despite himself, Kili scoffed. “Of course I won’t say that!”

“I’m glad to know you won’t fade away like those elves you’re so curious about.”

Finally, Kili looked at Thorin, weak argument on the tip of his tongue. There was a spark of mischief in Thorin’s eyes and the curl of his lips, however, and they silenced him. It was the reason Kili was never too scared of him—because he knew that deep underneath the coarse exterior, Thorin was as good-natured as he was. Indeed, Thorin was many things he didn’t at first seem to be. He was a great company, a devoted friend, a caring uncle, a loving lover. It had taken Kili many, many years learning these. Now, he had to learn yet another facet of him: a flawed mortal. Kili hated to think of the dwarf he loved in such a term, preferring to think of him only as nothing less than perfection and imperviousness, but he knew that he must, now while he still could.

“I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I know you won’t be taken away from me tonight,” Kili declared.

“No, not tonight,” Thorin agreed.

Having come to that agreement, Kili looked down to Kili’s wounds again. “Let me help you.”

Thorin released Kili slowly and nodded. With a medicinal kit he found in Thorin’s coat, Kili cleaned, treated, and bandaged his wounds, though the only cure to some internal injuries were only time and rest. On his body, there were new scars Kili didn’t recognize which must have been obtained during the quest, alongside old ones Kili had mapped in his mind. He had seen Thorin’s scars as beauty marks, signs of strength and experience that made Thorin so attractive to him. He realized now more than ever that each of them carried stories of pain, of brushes with death. They were more than fuels to heroic stories Kili formulated in his mind. They were mementos of hardships Thorin had endured and warnings of difficult times in the future.

As he sat behind Thorin to treat the wounds on his back, Kili caressed some old scars. Maybe one day an addition to the collection would take Thorin away from him permanently. Tears pricked his eyes at the thought, but he quickly blinked them away. There would be time to grieve someday and Kili wasn’t in a rush to experience it. As much as possible, he would prevent it from happening. He vowed to protect Thorin all the better, listen to him more carefully, and attend to him more diligently. It didn’t matter that one day these efforts would be in vain. Kili would practice them while they still worked, while he could still have time with Thorin. As well, as much as possible he would from now on cherish every last second he had left to enjoy Thorin’s love and attention. Already their moments of togetherness were fleeting. Kili didn’t want to waste what little opportunities he could have, especially in this perilous journey. Once he was finished tending to him, Kili wrapped his arms around Thorin carefully, minding the fresh wounds. He smiled when he sensed Thorin tense up in surprise. He never did like displaying affection in anywhere but privacy. In Ered Luin, it meant they had to wait until they were hidden behind closed doors, far from curious and disapproving eyes. Here in the quest, however, it meant Kili would be lucky to have Thorin standing next to him. Kili had missed the intimacy terribly and it seemed most imperative for them to reestablish it tonight.

“Kili,” Thorin warned.

“I can’t have you forever, so at least let me have this when I can,” Kili countered. He rested his cheek on Thorin’s back, intending to not let go of him for a good while yet. “No one will see us. Mister Dwalin will keep everyone away.”

It took a moment for Thorin to settle down and cease his worrying of being found in such a private moment, but he eventually did. Just as he had calming effect on Kili, Kili had calming effect on _him_. Already, Kili could feel his heartbeat and his breath slowing in relaxation that spread through his loosening muscles. Though Thorin held his own hand to keep from touching Kili, Kili didn’t mind as it was part of his character to be reserved when there was even the slightest chance to have an audience. Kili focused on their togetherness, the fact that he could hold Thorin, that he had Thorin with him. It wouldn’t last forever— _nothing_ lasted forever. But what mattered was they had each other at the moment, just as they had had each other many other times before that and would have each other for some time in the future. Kili couldn’t tell for certain, but he’d like to think that one day when he keenly felt he was alone and half of his soul was gone, he would look back to these feelings and these little moments, and he would be almost whole once more.

**Author's Note:**

> I really should stop writing about death. It sends me spiraling to, well not necessarily depression, but definitely headache-inducing crying fits. Also, I hate romanticizing not being able to live without someone or dying together. Get a life, honestly.
> 
> Feel free to say hi to me or scream about this ship with me on [my tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/).


End file.
